The culinary arts of the world are truly a diverse set and have consistently been this one’s greatest joy in travelling the myriad lands. Take rice as an example: the rice from the Shattered Peak is so rich their dishes have to be made with significantly smaller, but much harder-hitting ingredients, while the Violent Enclave has a rice that changes taste based on how you cycle your qi! Well. And then you have the freaks of the Summoned Isle who apparently don’t even have rice… – Wandering Cultivator Shun Zar

* * *

The streets were quiet and dark as I made my way to the Lang residence. Above my head, the stars twinkled on a dark canvas. The moon was scarcely a sliver. Tomorrow, the new moon would blanket the world with the purest dark, a beautiful time for any self-respecting moon artist.

I breathed deep of the cool, quiet air. This close to the harbor, I could hear the soft rolling of the sea, and I found myself considering just how nice it would be to grow up in a town like Saikan.

In the Pearlescent Valley, there were always conflicts. One sect attacking another for an insult, bandits lying in wait on the roads, guards with nothing better to do but harass mortals…all of these were commonplace where I was raised. Cultivators did whatever they wanted, and little attention was ever paid to anyone without a spiritual core.

But here? I’d not seen any cultivators at all aside from Tenri and myself. Though they had a problem with spirit beasts rising from the woods and sea, generally life was quiet. I liked that. The nights were calm. There weren’t any bureaucrats knocking down my door, and no wars looming over me like threatening storm clouds. Maybe I really could settle down here…

I laughed in spite of myself. Had I really been in prison so long that I thought I stood a chance living with quiet? If I wanted quiet, I should have risen to Gold or Salt, then secluded myself as a hidden master. Instead, I’d built a dominion, become a primal avatar of nature, and risen to ascendency. Ascendents don’t get to have quiet. I gave it a few months before I’d start going nuts with boredom. When that time came, I’d have to figure out how to get Tenri to go on an adventure with me.

But, for now, that was a long way off. Right now, I could enjoy the peace and quiet.

I turned down the street where Xinya and her father lived and followed the vague instructions to the doorstep of a tiny house squished between two much larger houses. A small lantern with a swimming fish painted on the side illuminated the plaque beside the door with the character for “Lang” painted in black. I approached the door and knocked gently. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Lang Tailyn. He smiled widely.

“Master Tsuyuki! You honor us by accepting my invitation,” he said. I nodded and stepped in.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I answered. I offered the two stacked boxes in my hands to him. “I brought a small gift as thanks.”

Lang shook his head. “Oh, please, Master Tsuyuki, you didn’t need to go through the trouble.”

“It was no trouble at all.”

“Are you certain? I wouldn’t want to presume anything of a renowned cultivator such as yourself.” Renowned…yes…that would be one word for what I am. Infamous or nefarious may be more appropriate…but I guess what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

I nodded. “Please, I insist.”

Gingerly, Lang took the boxes in hand and bowed slightly in thanks. Leaving my shoes at the door, I followed him into a small room with an equally small table. Nearby, Xinya stood on a small stool, watching the vegetables stewing in a pot. The savory aroma filled the room, and my mouth watered with anticipation.

“You made it!” she called. A moment later, she was by her father’s side, peering up at the two packages I’d brought. “Oooh! What did he bring? What did he bring?”

“Xinya, be polite,” her father scolded. She schooled her expression and apologized, but it warmed my heart to see her so excited. I hoped she would like it.

The larger package was opened first, revealing a Heaven’s Lily in a small pot. I was no wood artist, but I did have a garden in my old palace. Since Xinya had noticed my gift from the Flower Maiden first, it seemed appropriate. Though this particular specimen had silver stripes instead of purple, it was still a fine blossom, and I felt lucky to have found it.

“It’s beautiful,” Lang said. I bowed my head.

“In the Pearlescent Valley, it’s customary to gift plants on occasions like these,” I explained. “Your home is quite lovely, but maybe it will bring you some joy.”

“You’re too kind, Master Tsuyuki. It’s small, but it’s home.” Lang placed the flower in the window facing the street, likely so it would get the most sun during the day.

I looked around the small dwelling. It was broken into one main living space, separated by a divider to where Xinya and her father likely slept. It reminded me a lot of the home I’d grown up in, though we’d had three children and our father to fit into the small space. For the two of them, it was probably quite cozy.

Lang returned to the table and opened the second package to reveal a small wooden hairpin with coral and pearls. Xinya gasped and let her father slip it into her hair. The pearls shimmered with moon qi as she admired herself in a small mirror. I’d taken the liberty of infusing it earlier that day. It was nothing special, just a small bit of qi for light.

“It’s so pretty!” she exclaimed. Chiho vibrated angrily in my hair, but I ignored it. It had jealousy issues.

“You honor us with these gifts, Master,” Lang answered with a smile. “Please, have a seat. The stew should be ready soon.”

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Xinya rushed over to check the pot. After a few stirs, she deemed it ready and poured out several bowls.

“I made it all myself,” she announced, placing the food before me. “A friend taught me the recipe, and most of the ingredients are right.”

I raised an eyebrow at the notion that a friend had taught it to her. Xinya didn’t have many friends among the children, but maybe one of the adults taught her? Either that, or one of the other kids was playing a prank…I genuinely hoped it was the first.

“Thank you for the meal,” I said, picking up my bowl and spoon. Lang was the first to take a bite, and I followed his example.

It was…not good. Lang coughed at the first bite, and his face flushed red. I wasn’t sure if it was from the overwhelming amount of curry Xinya had added, or the embarrassment of serving such a meal to a guest. And the salt…there was more salt in this stew than an earth artist at the Salt Stage.

I shared a look with Lang. His eyes screamed an apology, but he was too busy trying not to spit out his daughter’s concoction to actually say something. Xinya still looked at us expectantly, and so I forced a smile and swallowed.

“It’s a very interesting flavor, Xinya,” I said. Lang seemed to take a moment to gather his courage before doing the same.

“Definitely interesting,” he repeated.

Xinya beamed with pride, and I didn’t know what to do. How do you tell a nine-year-old that the recipe they got from a friend was an affront to the history of the culinary arts? In the end, I forced myself to take another bite.

It’s better than the food from a sect. It’s better than the food from a sect. I repeated the phrase several times to calm myself. As a young cultivator, I’d given my loyalty and service to the Heaven’s Blade Sect. Though they were far from the most disciplined sect in Pearlescent Valley, they still had a policy of shunning many comforts. The disciples were forced to sleep on the hardest boards and ate only the blandest rice in the valley. After I’d grown powerful enough to safely mouth off to the elders, I’d worked on changing that attitude. Now, I was living proof that one could succeed and still enjoy the small pleasures of life.

None of which were reflected in Xinya’s cooking…

“Normally, I’m the one who cooks when I get back from sea,” Lang explained. “But, Xinya was so excited when we invited you that she insisted on cooking it herself.”

“You’re such a dedicated father to cook after a long day,” I praised, trying to pretend like I was focused on conversing as I set my bowl down.

“Thank you. Xinya is a free spirit. I feel like she should be allowed to be a child while she can. It’s what her mother would have wanted.”

“Do you want more?” Xinya asked. Even the very idea made my stomach churn, but I forced a smile.

“Not yet, maybe later?” The curry was starting to take its toll, and the room suddenly seemed uncomfortably warm and extremely cold at the same time. My hands started to shake, and I clasped them in my lap, so that the little girl wouldn’t notice.

Lang saved the conversation with another topic. “So, Master Tsuyuki, what sorts of spiritual arts do you practice? Your display at the lighthouse was most impressive.”

“Oh, that? I fear that was more the work of the shade, not me,” I lied. “I’m just a void artist.”

“Mom was a void artist, too!” Xinya exclaimed. “She was always breaking things by accident. She said it made her spiritual powers stronger.”

“That’s true, actually,” I said, pulling at memories from thousands of years ago. “Void qi is largely generated by the destruction of matter.”

I was suddenly quite grateful that I’d listened to the Hated One when she was still alive. Otherwise, I might not know enough to talk about the void and keep my cover. However, as soon as I caught myself acknowledging the Hated One and her teachings, another wave of nausea passed over me.

Seriously…what had Xinya put in the stew?

“You’re the fourth powerful void artist I know of in the Shores,” Lang noted.

“Oh?” My heart sank. There were other cultivators in the area, after all. I knew it had to be the case. After all, cultivators were everywhere, but I’d foolishly hoped that the peace of Saikan was entirely free of any such influences.

“The others are Shen Tori and his sons,” he said softly. “They’re…not exactly friendly. Nothing like you, Master Tsuyuki. I’m grateful for all you’ve done for us and the town.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure.” I raised a hand to rub the back of my neck. “I have always believed that cultivators are generally a horrible bunch of people. I try to be more helpful and more accepting of others.” I rubbed my neck, trying to subtly cool my body with my freezing hands.

Only, my hand brushed against something else…cold metal.

A spike of fear stabbed into my heart like a nail. I was hallucinating. I had to be. There was no way that the chains of the labyrinth were wrapped around me, not here in Saikan. It was just my imagination running off because of the horrible stew.

I was reassured when I put my hand back to find no metal at all. I hoped Lang wouldn’t be insulted if I didn’t eat any more of Xinya’s stew. I didn’t need that kind of stress in my life.

“How long do you plan on staying in Saikan? We can always use the extra hands.”

“Oh, I’m not really sure, actually,” I admitted. My eyes suddenly unfocused, and the world began to warp in my vision. I closed them, ignoring everything, and smiling at my host.

It’s still better than sect food…still better than sect food…

I cleared my throat and continued. “Though, I’m not as useful as you might think. What good’s a man who can’t swim to a fishing village?”

“You can’t swim?” Xinya asked, surprised. “I thought Master Tenri was joking when he said that.”

“There are lots of ways you can help,” Lang said with a small laugh. “You’ve already proved as much. I hear Zhao Mina and Zhao Suyi have fully repaired their farm after you helped with the ancestral tree, and…”

Lang kept talking, but I wasn’t listening anymore. Something was deeply wrong, and I was starting to doubt that Xinya’s concoction was responsible. The heat in my body had passed, leaving me on the brink of shivering. My hands trembled, and it was like my chest was wrapped by a tight chain keeping me from breathing.

The bronze band that bound my core to Tenri’s quivered and strained. It desperately tried to contain the roiling qi inside my core as it surged in a fighting ocean of silver light and pitch darkness. Only one time before had the void inside me been so unruly…

I opened my eyes. Lang and Xinya both looked at me strangely. I looked straight at the hands in my lap, studying my fingers.

“Master Tsuyuki, are you well?” Lang asked, but I barely heard him.

In my lap, the pale skin of my hand was slowly turning gray…

I needed to leave. I needed to get out of town, go anywhere but here.

“I…um…I’m fine,” I lied. “I just…”

I couldn’t wait for formality! If I delayed at all…I couldn’t stand the idea even enough to imagine it.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” I murmured through gritted teeth. It was all I could do to stay upright as my vision swam, and I stumbled towards the door. Once my shoes were in hand, I pushed open the door.

I cradled my hand close to my chest. It was darkening by the moment, and once the skin there was black as the void, the rest of me would start to change, as well.

With dread freezing my heart, I fled.